βούθουλας 

And he was standing there. Alone, alone and empty. Fastened at a pole, a black plastic sack over his upper part. He could see nothing, only from time to time feel things thrown at him from people that didn't even care to look as they did it. Sometimes he could feel a foot kicking on his lower part moving his bottom on the floor, around the pole and hear people's voices saying 'oh, excuse me' but before even thinking for a suitable reply another one would do it for him... etc